“My brother ditched you? Marry me,” the billionaire said with a smirk, looking at the abandoned bride.

“My brother ditched you? Marry me,” the billionaire said with a smirk, looking at the abandoned bride.

What she said next made the silence in the church stretch into an eternity, leaving everyone frozen in shock.

St. Michael’s Cathedral was splendid that morning. The stained-glass windows cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished wooden pews where over two hundred guests awaited the ceremony. The air was thick with the sweet fragrance of white roses and lilies, and the organist quietly practiced the first notes of the wedding march.

In the bridal suite, Valentina stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The gown, a creation she had designed herself, draped her figure perfectly. She’d spent months on every detail, from the delicate lace of the bodice to the elegant sweep of the skirt. It was more than a dress; it was the physical manifestation of a dream she’d held for years.

“You look breathtaking,” whispered Patricia, her best friend, as she adjusted the veil. “Rodrigo is going to be speechless when he sees you.”

Valentina smiled, but a knot of unease tightened in her chest. It was a small, persistent worry, like a pebble in her shoe she couldn’t shake out. She and Rodrigo had been together for years, and he had always been charming, attentive—the perfect boyfriend. So why did her stomach feel like it was tied in knots?

“It’s just nerves,” Patricia said, seeming to read her mind. “Every bride gets butterflies.”

Valentina nodded, trying to believe her. She’d met Rodrigo in college. He was a business major, the heir to one of the city’s most powerful corporations, while she was an architecture student barely affording tuition by working afternoons at a coffee shop. She remembered the first time he spoke to her in the library. Rodrigo was impossible to ignore—charismatic, confident, with a smile that could melt glaciers. He’d asked her to dinner, and they had been inseparable ever since. Or so she had thought.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. The wedding coordinator peeked in, a professional smile plastered on her face. “Miss Valentina, we’re starting in fifteen minutes. Are you ready?”

Valentina’s heart leaped. Fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes, she would walk down that aisle toward the man she would spend her life with. “Ready,” she replied, though her voice was less convincing than she’d hoped.

Patricia squeezed her hand. “I’m going to find my seat. I’ll see you out there.”

Left alone, Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She thought of her mother, who had passed away when she was fifteen. How she wished she were here, holding her hand, offering the maternal advice she desperately needed. Her father, Hector, was waiting outside to walk her down the aisle. A simple man who’d worked his entire life as a mechanic, he had poured his life savings into this wedding. The weight of his sacrifice made the moment even more significant.

The minutes ticked by. The coordinator returned, her expression more serious this time. “Miss, there’s a slight delay. The groom has requested a few more minutes.”

Valentina frowned. A delay? Why would Rodrigo need more time? “Is everything okay?” she asked, the knot in her stomach tightening.

“I’m sure it is. Just last-minute jitters. It happens all the time,” the coordinator said, her reassuring smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Five minutes later, she was back, her face pale. “Miss Valentina, you need to come with me.”

The coordinator’s tone made Valentina’s world tilt. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. “What is it? Is Rodrigo okay?”

The woman didn’t answer, only taking her hand and leading her down a side hallway. Valentina’s legs felt like lead. The dress, once a dream, now felt heavy and suffocating. She was led into a small room where her father and Patricia stood with devastated expressions. Hector’s eyes were wet, something Valentina had never seen. He was a tough man, forged by years of hard labor, who never showed his emotions.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Valentina’s voice was a terrified whisper.

Hector pulled her into a tight hug, and she could feel him trembling. “My girl, I’m so sorry.”

“Where is Rodrigo? Did something happen to him?”

Patricia stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. “Valentina… he’s gone.”

The world stopped. The words hung in the air, meaningless. “What do you mean, gone? Where?”

“He left this for you.” Patricia held out a trembling hand with a white envelope. Valentina took it as if it were poison, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely open it. Inside was a handwritten letter in his familiar script.

Valentina,

Forgive me. I can’t do this. I can’t marry you. I’ve realized I’m not ready for this commitment. I need to live my life, to be free. You’re a wonderful woman, but I’m not the man you deserve. Please, don’t look for me. This is my final decision.

Rodrigo

The letter slipped from her fingers. The room spun. Valentina gasped for air, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Her father caught her just as her knees gave way. “No, this can’t be real,” she murmured. “This isn’t happening.”